Introduction
by Madcow5678
Summary: #1 of the 100 Themes Challenge. Kenny's first day of pre-school, and all the crappiness that ensued. Please R


**Yeah. I'm doing the 100 themes challenge, just to see if I can actually do it (I doubt it, but you never know). Um...yeah. Please R&R. Give any comments/criticisms you have, and I'll take them on board.**

**First theme: Introduction. Based heavily off of the Pre-school episode, which I love. I kind of like how this turned out, but there's something which I can't put my finger on about it...hmm. Could be worse, I supporse.  
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**South Park, it's characters, and all of it's awesomeness which warps my fragile little mind © Matt Stone and Trey Parker.  
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**Introduction**

I still remember our first day at pre-school. I was late, as per usual. My mom had forgotten to set her alarm (Well, she didn't forget-my dad pawned it for $5), and we all woke up half an hour later than we should have. Mom proceeded to get into a shouting match with Dad, while feeding Karen, (who'd been born six months earlier, been in and out of hospital with a myriad of life-threatening diseases and managed to scare us all shitless into the bargain) and told Kevin to drop me off on his way to school.

By the time I got there, pre-school had already started, and all twenty-something kids were sitting on the carpet, getting their induction. In other words, being told that you must tell Miss Claridge if you were going to use the scissors, or if you broke anything, even by accident, or if you saw anyone getting picked on. The noise of the door closing behind me caused every kid in the place to stare at me, and at the blood stains on my parka (I'd had an unfortunate run-in with a police car on my way, which had caused me to be even later).

The uncomfortable silence, which lasts forever when you're three years old, was broken by a fat little kid at the back ,

"My Mom says that I'm not to touch you 'cause you have fleas, 'cause you're poor."

Miss Claridge decided enough was enough ,

"Eric Cartman, you must learn to be nice about other people and to respect their feelings! Now, that _wasn't_ a nice thing to say was it? Any more out of you, and you'll not have any cookies at snack time!"

Another little kid, sitting a short distance away and wearing a green ushanka hat turned towards the fat kid,

"Yeah, shut the hell up, fatass!"

"Goddamn Jew!"

"Right, that does it, Eric. No cookies!"

I remember Cartman throwing a tantrum to end all tantrums at this point: leg kicking, screaming, cursing, hitting anything in his reach (the wall, a bookcase, a giant plushie of The Gruffalow and Butters, who promptly burst into tears). Mrs Claridge told us all to go and play, then went off in a corner, muttering about How On Earth Had It Come To This.

For a while, I stood still, wondering what to do. Everyone seemed to have someone to hang out and play with. Except for me. Oh, and Butters, of course, but he was busy having his head wrapped in chewing gum by Trent Boyett.

I went over to the easel, and started to paint. With my fingers, I drew a woman with huge tits. Sort of like a cruder version of what I do now. The page still looked a bit bare though, so I added some words that I'd heard my parents shout at each other the night before. I didn't know what they meant, but at least my paper was now full.

I went back over to the teacher, so she could put it on the drying rack for me. She looked at my artwork,

"Very nice. What is it?"

"A nice lady. Like in Daddy's special magazines."

"Oh?"

I nodded, enthusiastically. Miss Claridge squinted at the words above the drawing,

"And…what does this say, Kenny? I can't quite make it out."

"_Bitch-whore_. And that over there, that says _fucking dickhead_."

I smiled at my teacher. Who proceeded to turn an interesting shade of purple.

"Kenny McCormick!!! Where on Earth did you learn these horrible phrases?!"

"From Mommy 'n' Dad"

"Kenny, in pre-school we DO NOT say these words! Now go and play, and don't let me EVER catch you saying such things again!"

"B-But-"

"Now!"

I wandered back to the book corner, and rested my head on my hands. Pre-school sucked. Why the hell had I gotten in trouble for using big words? Just because the stupid teacher was too dumb to use them herself…

My thoughts were interrupted by someone tapping me on the shoulder. I looked up to see the green-hat kid from earlier. With him was the fat kid who said I had fleas, and another boy in a blue hat with a red poofball beanie hat.

"You know cool words," the green-hat kid smiled at me, "Wanna play firemen with us?"

"Okay."

There was a moment or two of silence and then,

"My name's Kyle, and this is Stan."

"I'm Kenny."

"Fags!"

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman!"


End file.
